


Sacred New Beginnings

by angellwings



Series: (You Are) What You Love [8]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship/Love, New Relationship, One Shot, Post Series, Romance, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 14:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20761655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: By 0900 hours on Christmas Day his Army duffel is packed with anything he doesn't want to leave behind. Not everything he'd acquired over the last three months would fit in his bag, but he made sure to take the important things. Important, in this case, meaning sentimental.Yes, that's right. Wyatt Logan is a huge freaking sap.Toiletries were tossed out in favor of a red not-so-vintage Old Navy jacket, a pair of old Army sweats, and a bow tie stolen from a 1940s screen used tuxedo. He can buy toiletries once he gets out of the bunker. He can't replace memories.





	Sacred New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: **a lot of the early one shots were from Lucy's POV so now prepare yourselves for a LOT of Wyatt POV. I love writing from his POV but I usually go with Lucy because she underestimates herself so much that it allows for very wrong interpretations of events. Now that we're past needing that as much, I get to write Wyatt again lol. YAY!
> 
> Not exactly sure where this one is going but hopefully it leads us somewhere significant. I'm working without a plan on this one.
> 
> Here we go!
> 
> Angellwings
> 
> * * *

* * *

"'I rent a place on Cornelia Street',

I say casually in the car.

We were a fresh page on the desk,

Filling in the blanks as we go,

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead,

Leading us home."

-"Cornelia Street" by Taylor Swift

* * *

By 0900 hours on Christmas Day his Army duffel is packed with anything he doesn't want to leave behind. Not everything he'd acquired over the last three months would fit in his bag, but he made sure to take the important things. Important, in this case, meaning sentimental.

Yes, that's right. Wyatt Logan is a huge fucking sap.

Toiletries were tossed out in favor of a red not-so-vintage Old Navy jacket, a pair of old Army sweats, and a bow tie stolen from a 1940s screen used tuxedo. He can buy toiletries once he gets out of the bunker. He can't replace memories.

Lucy's duffle is sitting next to his by their bedroom door. Hers is much larger and a vibrant green paisley print. She's been in the Bunker six weeks less than him and somehow she's walking away with more stuff. Including, he notices, a blue flannel something peeking out of the edge of her duffle's zipper.

Looks like he's not the only sap in the relationship.

The bed has been stripped of linens, leaving the two of them sitting on a thin plastic covered mattress. It's strange to think they only shared the room for one night. It honestly feels like it's _theirs._

Lucy threads her fingers through his and leans into his side. He feels her chin on his shoulder for a few minutes before she finally speaks.

"Congratulations on the transfer, by the way. I never got a chance to tell you earlier."

"Thank you," He replies. "I'm really looking forward to sticking around."

"And finishing off Rittenhouse?" She asks knowingly.

"Finishing the job we started is definitely a perk. But you know what else is a perk?" He turns his head to meet her eyes with a crooked grin. She raises her brows expectantly while she waits for him to continue. "_You_. Being able to keep seeing you on a regular basis."

"That's a perk for both of us," she agrees with a teeth baring smile.

He squeezes her hand and gives her a quick chaste kiss.

"So," he says. "What's next for Professor Preston?"

"You know," she says as she takes a deep contemplative breath. "I have no damn clue. And I'm kind of pumped about it. For the first time in my life, there's no five year plan. There's not even a one year plan or a one _month_plan. I'm not confined by anyone else's idea of who I should be and it's..._liberating_. But also _terrifying_."

He brings the back of her hand to his lips and then squeezes it. "Whatever you decide to do, you'll be exceptional at it. I'm sure of it."

The cars arrive to take them all home a few minutes later. Mason's is taking him to his penthouse Christopher managed to hold for him, Rufus and Jiya are headed out to see Rufus's mom and brother, and their car is supposed to drop Lucy off at her mom's and then take him on to his place.

But when they pull up outside the house, Lucy freezes. He can't say he's surprised. He knows, as well as she does, that the last time she was there she was stolen from everything that was familiar to her. Since then, nothing in her life has been the same. Some of it ended up being a good kind of different but most of it left her heartbroken. There are ghosts inside of that house she'll have to face eventually but doing it today, on top of everything they'd faced in the last week, is not necessary.

As always, though, he'll follow her lead. If she wants to start cleaning those skeletons out of those particular closets _today _then he'll support her. Hell, he'll get down in the dirt with her if she wants. He's got a lot more practice digging up skeletons than she does.

"I—I can't go in there," she tells him with a watery glance. "Not today."

She gives him a pleading look as if asking him not to beg an explanation from her. He doesn't need to hear a reason. He understands more than she knows and has no intention of making her do anything. Not that he ever would.

If she doesn't want to go in that house she certainly doesn't have to.

"I rent a place not far from here," he offers. "It's not anything fancy but you're welcome to it."

She nods eagerly and throws herself at him, crushing him in a signature Lucy Preston hug while tears stick in her throat. "_Thank you_. Yes."

He returns the embrace and keeps his arms around her, pleased when she leans further into him. Hopefully, it's a sign of things to come and she'll start to lean on him emotionally again. She's gotten so used to keeping her distance that he knows it'll be a hard habit to break.

When they arrive, the agent that drove walks to the apartment with them. He's under orders to clear the place room by room before he leaves them. When the door swings open, Wyatt realizes the agent won't be there long.

The apartment is empty.

There's nothing to search so clearing a vacant space should be quick and easy.

His brow furrows. "Where's all my stuff?"

"In storage," the agent says as they step inside. "The landlord wanted to sublet the place so Agent Christopher had your things moved out." A key is dropped into Wyatt's hand as the agent moves on to clear the next room. "That's the key to your storage unit," he calls over his shoulder.

Lucy takes in the hardwood floors and plain white walls with a grin. "Well, on the bright side, now you have plenty of space."

"Yes, because there's not a single piece of furniture left. What are we supposed to do tonight? Sleep on the floor?" He asks her.

She chuckles and shrugs. "We've had worse."

He grunts a response that sounds like an agreement but the sentiment rankles him. They're in the present. The time travel is behind them. They shouldn't have to deal with sleeping on hard surfaces and doing without the comforts of home. Not anymore.

The agent gives the place the all clear and leaves. Now, it's up to Wyatt and Lucy to improvise. He doesn't like it, but he knows there's no one else he'd rather improvise with than Lucy.

"She could have told me my apartment was empty," Wyatt grumbles as he paces across the bare floors.

"This morning was so busy that it probably slipped her mind," Lucy reminds him. "But it's okay, Wyatt. Think of it like camping — just indoors with running water and air conditioning. So...you know, _better_," she says, chuckling at herself, as she loops her arm through his. "Our first non-time travel adventure."

He snorts derisively and shakes his head. "If only this first adventure included a _bed_." A sigh escapes him as he places a kiss to Lucy's cheek. "I have a small storage space in the basement. I'll go see if Christopher emptied that too. If there's anything in it then I'll see if any of it is actually _useful_."

"Okay," she agrees with a sharp nod. "While you're gone I'll try to find places that are open on Christmas in case we need to buy supplies or groceries."

He leaves with heavier steps than he intends and closes the door with too much force. He had more possessions living in the bunker then he has in his own apartment. It's _aggravating. _

He stomps down the stairs to his fenced off storage space in the basement. Thankfully, it is _not_ empty. He grins for the first time since opening his apartment door as he rummages through it. Lucy's comparison earlier turns out to be more accurate than he thought it would be…

Because all that's left in his storage space is _camping gear_.

He returns upstairs a half hour later and drops two sleeping bags and a deflated air mattress at Lucy's feet.

He smirks. "You did say to think of it like camping, didn't you?"

She laughs and wraps her arms around him. For a moment he feels like the day hasn't actually been that bad.

The air mattress has a built in pump so Wyatt gets to work on that while Lucy shakes out the sleeping bags. Once that's done, Lucy zips the two sleeping bags together and lays them on top of the double sized inflated mattress.

"That's one problem solved. We have a bed," she states with her hands on her hips as they observe their handiwork. "Now for the next problem: food and supplies."

"Anything open?" He asks as they approach his kitchen counter where her laptop sits. Thank fuck the wireless modem and router were left behind. That's something, at least.

"Well, it seems our choices are 7-Eleven and Walgreens. Walgreens closes their doors at around two, 7-Eleven is open all day."

He scowls, his moment of hope now officially behind him. "So, beef jerky for Christmas dinner then?"

She gives him half of a grin and rolls her eyes. "Not quite. There are a few places that will deliver or let us order carry out. Do you still have a car for a supply run?"

"Christopher gave me my car keys with my house keys so I would assume, yes," he answers with an irritated huff. "Unless she also rented out my Jeep and forgot to mention it."

"Oh my god, Wyatt, stop being such a man-baby," Lucy admonishes with a quiet chuckle. "I mean, really, aren't you Delta Force guys used to roughing it?"

"Just because I'm used to it doesn't mean I _want_ to," he says as he digs his car keys out of his pocket.

She shakes her head and shoves him toward the door with a bemused expression. "Let's go, Grumpy Gus. You need toilet paper and I need wine."

His Jeep is parked in his reserved spot. Not only is it in excellent condition, but someone also filled the tank. If only DHS had been that considerate about his apartment then he and Lucy wouldn't be spending their first night back in the world on a glorified pool float. Maybe that's what irks him the most. Once the offer was made for Lucy to come home with him, he had some grand idea that their first Christmas together would be spent somewhere comfortable or that, even if his place is small, it would at least be more luxurious than the Bunker.

That idea has been completely dashed. _Repetitively_.

This is the only "first Christmas" they're going to have and they're going to spend it buying toilet paper and cheap wine from _Walgreens_? Only to then order some sort of crappy take out and fall asleep on an _air mattress_? He knows none of this is his fault but he already feels as if he's let her down somehow.

They've barely been out of the bunker an hour and he's already failed.

Fan-_fucking_-tastic.

"You okay over there?" Lucy asks, her eyes never leaving her phone's GPS.

It's only been 3 months since they've been underground but everything seems to have moved and without the GPS they both know they'd get lost. Yet another reason to be pissed off. They lost so much time in that damn bunker. How the hell do they get that back?

"Peachy," he answers through a tense jaw.

Lucy looks up at the sound of his voice and quirks one brow at him with an exasperated sigh.

"Park here," she says as she points to a spot along the sidewalk.

"We still have five miles—"

"Park _here_, Wyatt," she insists, effectively cutting off anything he might have said.

He knows that tone well enough by now to shut up and do as he's told. He wordlessly pulls over and parks, but refuses to look at her. His sullen mood has probably ruined the day even further. Go figure. He should have seen it coming.

"What's wrong?" Lucy asks as she angles herself toward him. "And _don't_say nothing. I know better. Your jaw is locked, your hands have a death grip on the wheel, and you refuse to look me in the eye. So, either you're upset with yourself or I've done something and if it's the latter—"

He winces through another wave of guilt and interrupts her. "It's not you, Lucy. Believe me, it's not."

He never meant to give her that impression and it hurts him to imagine she's spent the day thinking he's mad _at her. _It piles on top of the guilt he's already feeling.

"Then what is it?" She asks, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"This isn't working out like I imagined," he admits with a hopeless exhale.

Lucy's brow furrows and alarm flashes across her amber eyes. "What does _that_ mean? _This_ as in…?"

The "_us"_ is implied as her sentence trails off and it sends panic shooting through him from head to toe. "No, Lucy. Not—Jesus, I'm an asshole. _Christmas_. I mean _Christmas_. God, definitely not _us_. Shit, I'm sorry."

Her relief is palpable and changes the atmosphere in the car completely.

"You're upset about how our day is going?" She asks in confusion.

"It's not just a _day_. It's Christmas. Our first one together. We only get one of those," he tells her. "And I'm ruining it—okay, maybe not _ruining _it but I'm certainly not making it a day to remember."

Her features soften and the color of her eyes warms to cinnamon. He thinks he reads amusement in them. "Out of curiosity, exactly how did you imagine this day going?"

"Well, I _imagined_ furniture, at the very least."

She bites her bottom lip to hold back a grin. "As one often does."

He feels the corners of his mouth twitch as he playfully narrows his eyes on her. Her good humor is catching. "Do you find this _funny_?"

"You mean you _don't_?" Lucy asks with the faintest trace of a laugh. "Come on, we get out of a rusted tin can expecting a real mattress and possibly a plush sofa only to find bare walls and a lot of open space. We whined for months about getting out of the bunker and it turns out we had more furniture in our bedroom in the bunker than you have in your _entire _apartment. _That _is funny. It's funny because it would _only_ happen to us. I think we should know by now to throw our expectations out the window because life is always going to throw curveballs at us, good _or_ bad. But at least it's you and me." She squeezes his shoulder before she finishes her thought. "_We've_ got plenty of practice swinging at those curveballs."

Truer words have never been spoken. All they've gotten is curveballs. One right after the other. They've managed to survive them so far by being there for each other. Even when one of them, himself specifically, is a moody little bitch.

"You're not disappointed?" He asks her warily. "Really? Or mad at me? Or _anything_?"

"I was annoyed by your attitude, I'll admit. But now I get it, and I promise we're okay. Next time, though, try using words to express yourself first, okay?"

He nods and then grabs one of her hands to place a kiss on her palm. "Okay."

"And disappointed? Wyatt, I'm here with _you_. What you said this morning applies to me too," she tells him as she laces her fingers through his. "I have everything I need. _Right here._ We can stumble through life without time travel for years to come and I will never be disappointed. Honestly, we may be approaching one of the most awkward and emotional seasons of our lives but as long as we're together...well, then I hope it never ends. I'd rather be awkward and emotional with you then polished and put together with anyone else. New beginnings are never easy, but at least we're not starting over alone."

"I don't know if I could do this without you, Luce," Wyatt admits hoarsely as his emotions overwhelm him. Everything she said is exactly how he feels.

"I don't think I could do this without _you_ either," she responds, releasing his hand to run her fingers through his hair.

They're not going to get it right a hundred percent of the time and life is messy. He can't put pressure on himself to be perfect. He'll spend all his time too angry at himself to enjoy what he's been given. He would end up taking it all for granted — taking _Lucy_ for granted — and that would be the surest way to lose everything.

He doesn't ever want to lose her. He _needs_ her. He leans into her hand as it cards through his hair and then comes back to rest on his cheek.

"We'll figure out the apartment," she assures him, her warm voice soothes him like the coziest blanket. "Tomorrow we'll go see what's in storage and what you need and we'll work it out. I promise. Maybe this is a good thing. You get to go through it all and decide what's worth keeping and what needs to be let go. A fresh start on a new page. Like getting a new apartment without having to actually go apartment hunting."

"Not exactly the ideal situation for _Christmas_, though," he tells her with a weak smile.

"There's always next year," she states before sealing a lingering kiss against his lips. Her expression is full of love and affection when she pulls back to meet his eyes again. "Maybe we won't have another _first_ Christmas but I have a feeling our second Christmas will be just as memorable."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, resisting the urge to pull her in for another kiss. "Why's that?"

"Because it's _us _and I've never forgotten a single thing we've been through together — even if for a short while I wished I could. That's not going to change anytime soon." Her hands smooth over his hair and then his stubble, finally stopping to straighten his shirt collar. "A year from now, we'll look back at this and laugh. Trust me."

He nods with a determined expression. "I do trust you. Completely."

"Good, then let's get back to it," she orders as she leans back in her seat and pulls the GPS back up. She tosses him a wink as he starts the car. "I need boxed wine and a plastic cup to drink it in. Forward march, soldier."

He laughs as he leans across the seat to press his lips to her temple. God, he loves her.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies dutifully.

He pulls back out onto the road in a much better mood than he started. Thanks to Lucy. He's not sure how she does it, but she somehow always knows exactly what to say or what to do to reach him. He knows she's right. They're about to enter a phase full of awkwardness and strong emotions, but he's excited about it now. He's ready to get this show on the road because he _knows_ them. He knows they'll make it. They have to.

They'll work through it all _together_ in the same way they'll redecorate his apartment _together_. They'll rediscover the flaws — the creaky floorboards, the leaky pipes, the scuffs on the walls — and one by one they'll repair them all. They'll make something impressive out of the hand they've been dealt.

They always do.

Hopefully, they always _will_.


End file.
